


He Said, She Said

by greekowl87



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Can't seem to get their stories straight, Episode: s05e12 Bad Blood, F/M, MSR, Post-Episode: s01e08 Bad Blood, RST, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:35:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26422003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greekowl87/pseuds/greekowl87
Summary: Mulder and Scully, for the first time in years, have conflicting reports of what happened down and Texas. Mulder seems fixated on the fact Scully mentioned the magic fingers (and maybe a bit jealous). She's just annoyed.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 4
Kudos: 48
Collections: X-Files Episode Fanfic Exchange (2020)





	He Said, She Said

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crescentmoon223](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crescentmoon223/gifts).



> Prompt for the ep 'Bad Blood:' Prompt was " Let's have some fun with that vibrating bed after Scully "put money in the magic fingers." Maybe the bed gets her worked up, and Mulder walks in? Or vice versa? Maybe it's something they argue about in their "he said, she said" retelling of the case, whether or not anything happened with the bed. / Could be UST or UST to RST, whatever floats your boat. Just have fun with it :) "
> 
> And I had a lot of fun writing this. I hope it turned out okay :) P.S. I hope I caught all the typos!  
> 1

They’d been trying all morning to get their stories to match. Scully looked at her watch to see the minute hand ticking closer to the twelve. Mulder watched her before turning his attention back to scribbles on a legal pad.

Both Mulder and Scully felt like they were walking on eggshells with each other trying to get their stories straight. They had an hour to finalize their report before meeting with Skinner. Wadded paper and a mental waste bin were already fallen victims of their arguments. Scully’s gaze lingered at the fallen casualties before she tried to meet his inquiring but insistent gaze. But no one could seem to agree: vampires, accidental death, and possible imprisonment. Neither one of them could get past that little figure of 436 million dollars or the thought of a future prison cellmate called Large Marge. Where the hell do vampires have the power to sue, Mulder thought as he sat back down in his chair. Scully tilted her head, wordlessly throwing down the gauntlet as she crossed her arms.

“Well, Mulder?”

“Well, what?”

“Aren’t going to say, ‘Scully, of course, you were right all along. There is no such thing as a vampire,’” she said.

“Ronny Strickland was a vampire, Scully.” He waited for her rebuttal. She sighed and when he received none, he continued, “So let’s go back over it. When I took over the magic fingers on the bed…”

“Stop talking about the magic fingers, Mulder. I fail to see how that pertains to us trying to get our stories straight.” She got up and paced in front of him. “Why are you so obsessed with them?” Her mind flashed back to the few times she had caught him with his private magazines and tape collections. “Mulder?”

“I wasn’t the one who brought them up.” He watched Scully bury her face in the palm of her hand, just like she did when she didn’t know what to do with him. He clicked off the tape recorder and asked, “Why is it so important you mention that you popped change into the magic fingers at the motel?”

“To describe how stressed I was. How demanding you were.”

“Why were you stressed?” He frowned in disbelief. “From little old me?”

“Let me see,” Scully said, counting on her fingers, “You drag me to the south of Dallas…”

“Three hundred miles south of Dallas…”

“To chase exsanguinated cows…”

“Vampirism…”

“Of a bunch of cows...six you said…where we wasted our time and the taxpayers’ dollars and worked with Lucius Hartwell.”

“You did not say it was okay for him to use your first name. Hell, you never even told him your first name was Dana!”

“You told me to get my little legs moving.” 

Oh, he knew how much she hated that but, in all honesty, his photographic memory never recalled saying that. Unless he had been drugged somehow. “I never said that!”

“Two autopsies back to back. In one day! I was tired and my feet were sore! I hurt all over. The bathtub was questionable and you could see a water line in it. You always find such shitty places for us to stay in. Do you want to hear my version of events or not, Mulder?” She came back to her chair. “Or we are going to keep going.”

“I just think you are over-analyzing the situation. But anyways, continue.” He waved his hand sarcastically. He clicked the tape recorder back on and tented his fingers in front of his face. “About those magic fingers, Scully?” He smiled and she crossed her legs, almost agitated. He couldn’t help himself. “Come on. Where were you going to pick up at?”

She bent forward, snapped off the tape recorder, popped out the tape, and threw it across the room. The tape hit the wall with a resounding thud. Mulder watched as she got up, tried to snap it in half, but ended up taking a large book and hitting the tape repeatedly. The tape fell victim just like the waste bin to his earlier destruction.

“The magic fingers,” she answered, trying to compose herself, “is not significant to our final report unless you count how it took away my stress of doing that waste of an autopsy on my feet for hours on end and how you ate my pizza.”

“I saved your life. That pizza was poisoned!”

“Still, you made me do that stupid autopsy. Two in one day! When you knew I had only eaten half a bagel with lite cream cheese. You know it wasn’t real cream cheese! I told you that very morning!” She sat in her chair and kicked off her heels as she did in the bed. “Shit, just thinking about it brings back memories. I used the 50 cents on the magic fingers because my feet were killing me. I didn’t have someone to massage my feet after standing on them for hours on end. But I was rudely interrupted when you barged in covered in mud after your apparent...misadventure with the local sheriff. Why are you so damn fixated on the magic fingers?”

He shrugged, pretending to write notes with a chewed wooden pencil and avert his gaze. “I just found it odd?”

“Odd? Odd?!?!” Scully narrowed her eyes in annoyance. “How so, Mulder? Please enlighten me.”

He scrambled for a thought. “It’s just…” He felt panicked he couldn’t think of one. “All the other motor lodges…”

“Motels,” she correctly said.

“Motor lodge,” he countered and added, “don’t usually come with such devices.”

“So maybe the vampires put it there to lull us into false security before they suck us dry.” She put vampires in air quotes. “But anyway, you made me do another autopsy, took the rest of the magic fingers ride, and ate my pizza. You laughed like a crazy person and left mud all over my room.” She rubbed her face. “Again, why are so obsessed over the magic fingers?”

“Why would you need magic fingers? Maybe it was conveniently placed there for victims? Maybe to ease them before the vampires would come. You might be onto something there.” He clapped his hands. “I got it! It was all a part of Ronny Strickland’s plan!”

“What? Mulder, you’re not making any sense. Didn’t I just say that?” Scully was exasperated. “Mulder, my autopsy results proved they drugged the pizza.”

“But why would you need the magic fingers?”

“Damn it, Mulder.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Again, I will repeat this only once. I was standing on my feet all day. I had half of a bagel with fake cream cheese. You took my pizza. I was tired. I was annoyed. My feet hurt. Everything hurt and ached. Maybe I wanted to feel better?”

“Just feel better?”

“Don’t make me shoot you again,” she threatened darkly.

He held up his hands in surrender. She warily watched him before continuing. “So, after you stole my pizza and bed, I went back to perform the second autopsy. There, I discovered the connection between the cases. This pizza. I rushed back to the hotel where I found you…” She paused. “Not there exactly…”

“From there, I was drugged.”

“You were singing the ‘Shaft’ theme song, Mulder. I can’t take you seriously singing that.” She threw up her hands in frustration. “I can’t take any of this case seriously. And then there was Ronny Strickland, who jumped like a flying squirrel that I fired upon…”

“You hit him, Scully.” He hit his heart with his hand. “Three times. Square in the chest.”

“But you killed him with a stake which leads us to our current predicament.”

“Ronny Strickland is...was a vampire, Scully. I can prove it.”

“With a giant law suite and us in prison?” Mulder rolled his eyes and the office phone started ringing. Scully picked it up before he could pick it up. “Yes,” she answered.

He could always read his partner, for the most part, and knew her better than he knew himself. Mulder watched her shoulders drop and her hum a series of yes and yes, sirs. She hung up and sighed, “Skinner wants our report now.” She paused as she grabbed his suit jacket. “And fix your tie. Please? We need to look somewhat presentable with this...clusterfuck.”

He frowned. “You don’t believe me.”

“I didn't say that.” She paused, staring off into the distance. “I just think...we have a difference of opinions.”

“When was the last time we had conflicting reports? Anyways,” Mulder glanced at his watch, “We need to get upstairs and give our report to Skinner.”

“What report,” Scully remarked drily. “We can’t even get our stories straight.”

“We’ll think of something.”

They went to the elevators and walked in sync to Skinner’s office. Kimberly had them sit on the large leather couch as Scully frowned and began to fidget with Mulder’s tie. He tried to push her away but Scully grew even more determined. Suddenly, when Skinner opened the office door and Mulder blurted out how he was drugged. Skinner recovered from his agent’s outburst to announce Ronny Shaw had gnawed on the local medical examiner and they were back off to Texas.

* * * * * * *

Well, another case was done and solved, sort of. Neither of them could formally conclude what happened or come to a consensus. For the first time in three years, they would have conflicting reports relating to the possibility of or improbability with the lunacy of vampires.

Scully still contested that vampires didn’t exist, Lucius Hartwell may or may not have had buck teeth or been a vampire, their trip to Texas may have been a waste of time, but they both agreed that Ronnie Strickland, dead or alive, was no longer their problem. The entire town had vanished into thin air and the case was solved. Sort of. Mulder was still spouting on how his untied shoelaces and bull riding a coffin constituted as proof as vampirism. And he kept checking her neck for bite marks or evidence of a transformation, which was becoming increasingly more annoying. She waved his hand away as they sat in the car and the rain started.

Scully leaned forward to look at the blue-neon glowing sign.

“Well, a motel,” Scully concluded. “The Cowgirl’s Pen. Jesus, Mulder, can you pick any less seedy places for us to stay? This sounds like a porno.”

“It’s a motor lodge,” Mulder corrected. “Anyways, we’re outside of Chaney, Texas. Away from the vampires. Are you sure you weren’t bit, Scully?”

“Jesus, yes!”

“Are you sure?” He was already trying to sneak another look at her neck, just to be safe.

“Yes, Mulder. Stop fussing with my neck.” She twisted her head to get away with his prodding. “I wasn’t bitten! And can’t for once spring for nicer accommodations? This looks like the same shit hole we stayed in last time. Granted, we’re right outside of Dallas but it’s still questionable.”

“Maybe they have magic fingers here too, Scully.”

“Shut up, Mulder.” She audibly groaned and got out of the car to check them in. 

He chuckled as he went to the trunk to grab their bags and stand under the awning waiting for her. He was enjoying this too much. The rain intensified as Scully reappeared, looking more annoyed than she had when they were trying to get their stories straight before going in front of Skinner. She held up a single key. “Well, they have one room left.”

“Two beds?”

“One.”

It wouldn’t be the first time they were the first to share the bed. He would’ve clapped his hands but he would not risk her ire even more. He tried to remain serious. “What on earth for?”

“You’ll never guess it.”

“Try me.”

“There’s a horror convention in town. A vampire horror convention.”

This time, he couldn’t resist. Mulder clapped his hands and laughed as she grimaced. “Let’s just get to our room. I’m tired and my feet hurt.”

“Need those magic fingers again, Scully?” He asked, picking up their bags.

“I will stab you and make it look like a shaving accident,” she threatened. “We’re in room 202. The good news is that it is a king suite.”

“A king’s fingers?” She stopped, faced him, and narrowed her eyes angrily. He dropped their bags. “Kidding, Scully. Just kidding. I am but a humble servant, Dr. Scully.” He did a mock bow, still grinning at her. “Special Agent Dr. Scully, how may I serve you?”

“Shut up, Mulder.”

She rolled her eyes, jogged up the concrete stairs in front of him. Her heels echoed throughout the poor accommodations as he lumbered up behind her. She unlocked the door and flipped on the light. “Well, we’ve been in worse,” he concluded. “But alas, no magic fingers.”

“I also know where to put a needle with the right amount to give you a heart attack and make it look like a heart attack. Or I can get creative. And I wouldn’t get caught.” She glanced at him. “So, shut up, Mulder.” He couldn’t help but smile. She did her usual inspection of the room, checking the tv, turning on a bedside lamp, flipping on the bathroom light to see what they had, before dropping her coat on the small table with two chairs that would also act as a desk. “Well, it’s almost as good as a Quality Inn.”

He dropped their bags by the tv and flipped a table tent. “Hey, we get breakfast too! And they recommend A.B’s pizza…”

“No.” She held up her finger. “No. Not by a long shot. That got us into this predicament. What else do they have?”

Mulder shuffled around, looking for the information binder motels left. After finding it and replied, “Well, it’s either pizza or questionable sushi.” He flipped through a few more pages. “Or the barbecue.”

Scully rolled her eyes back into her head and let herself drop on the bed. She kicked off her heels like Mulder imagined her doing at the motor lodge. “See if the pizza place has anything other than pizza. Subs maybe? Or pasta? Oh, and salad. If not, the barbecue. We’ve had bad luck with all those sorts of foods in our cases.”

She let herself fall onto the king-sized bed. He watched her unbutton her suit jacket and close her eyes in fatigue. She kicked off her heels and Mulder tried not to look at her stocking clad feet. But he couldn’t resist repressing his playful nature. He sat next to her and used his long index finger to tickle the arch of her foot.

“Your feet are sore? Missing your magic fingers?”

“Mulder…” Scully groaned and pulled away. “Don’t mess with me tonight. This case is more than enough right now. I can easily shoot you again.”

He held her ankle gently in his hands so she couldn’t pull away. “I got dinner tonight,” he said quickly. “Don’t kill me.”

She waved her hand and closed her eyes. She was too tired to fight. Mulder bit his lip, trying not to smile at the irony of the situation. He was certain vampires existed but he couldn’t help but needle Scully's resolve and tease her about the magic fingers. It was just too much fun. He dialed the number off of the worn advertisement and inquired about subs instead of pizza. He ordered a full meatball sub and Philly cheesesteak with extra onions, peppers, and mushrooms with fries to share. He hung up the phone and asked, “Is there anything else I can get you, Dr. Scully?”

Her eyes were closed and she grunted in response. “I was serious about my threats.” She opened up an eye. “Besides, what are you trying to do? Butter me up?”

“Truce,” he replied. He held up his hands in surrender. “I just want to be on your side again, Scully.”

“Leave me the money for the food and go get us some beer. God knows I need it.”

Mulder smiled and dropped cash on the nightstand next to her as she twisted over on her side. “Change into something more comfortable,” he suggested.

“You’re the one to talk.”

It took twenty minutes to walk to a corner gas station, buy them a six-pack, and walk back to the room. As he entered, Mulder smelled their newly delivered food. Scully had changed into a pair of flannel sleeping pants and one of his tee shirts. He wisely held his tongue. “Enough money?”

“Yep. I got us some Shiner Bock. That's okay?”

“Yes,” she answered. She pulled her hair back into a clip. “And our food arrived. I tried to do my inspection at our dinner. Grab two and put it in the fridge. I put the other half of the subs in there as well so we would have breakfast. I saw you ordered my favorite.”

“I know my partner.”

“I thought you were just trying to make it up to me.”

“That too.”

She rolled her eyes as he did as requested. They sat across from each other and clinked their beer bottles in a silent celebration over another closed case. They ate the subs over the chatter of the tv while ‘Nosferatu’ played in the background. Mulder gazed at her and asked, “Still missing those magic fingers?”

She playfully slapped him and discarded the rest of her meal. She grabbed a new beer and set it on the nightstand. “Why the hell are you so fixated on that? Our case is closed but you won’t let that subject go.”

“What?”

“Magic fingers? It’s almost like you were expecting to walk in on me doing something.” She went to the bed and tried to stretch out but shifted uncomfortably as he continued to gaze at her. “Mulder, stop staring at me. You’re making me uncomfortable.”

Mulder felt emboldened by his beer and the need to show up Sheriff Vampire Buck-Teeth Hartwell. Scully was his, damn it...of course, he had yet to still admit it. He had a chance with his cancer remission. The small advances he had shown her and yielded nothing. At one point, while they were in Florida for that team-building seminar, he thought she was trying to put the moves on him with a makeshift wine and cheese plate. Of course, he was more interested in mothmen. How could he have ignored the signs? But maybe Mulder could do something about it and those magic fingers could be a gateway. He put the leftover fries in the fridge, sat on the edge of the bed in front of her, and gently took Scully’s foot within his hands again. He pressed his thumbs in the arch of her foot. She curled back at the initial touch but found herself relaxing, despite herself. “What are you doing?”

Scully tried to shy away and play it cool but he shook his head. “Relax,” he said. “Since this room currently lacks magic fingers, maybe I can do one better.”

She watched him. With care and skill, his thumbs pushed and rolled up the arch of her right plantar fascia, lingering on her heel, and his long finger gently massaging the base of her calf and heel. He pushed her knee back and she tried not to react. But oh, God, did that foot massage feel good. She bit her lip; he must be doing something right. He switched to her foot with toe-curling excitement. 

“What are you doing,” she whispered. She repeated her question but it was useless as she seemed completely focused on his task. “Mulder?”

“Magic fingers.” He replied. “I got them too.”

As much as she ached, Scully felt herself melt. This was better than any 50 cents vibrating bed. This was heaven. She wished he would do this more. Maybe he was trying to convince her vampires existed. “They don’t.”

“What don’t?”

“Vampires. Not real.” She couldn’t even form full sentences. “Just saying.”

“I can counter that.” He pushed his thumbs against the arch of her left foot and she grunted at the initial contact. It had been so long since someone touched her like this. She relaxed, resting her head against the pillows, and closing her eyes. She was enjoying this impromptu foot massage at the moment. “You were saying?”

“Stop distracting me.”

“I’m not distracting.”

“You are,” she murmured. He stopped. “I didn’t tell you to stop, Mulder.”

He chuckled and resumed his ministrations. Mulder whispered. “He had bucked teeth. Maybe they were dentures for his fangs.”

“Ronny Stickland’s fangs were fake.” Her eyes were closed and she was lost in thoughts and what she was going to say was lost. “You aren’t distracting by the way?”

“Really?” He watched her keep her eyes closed. “Scully, open your eyes.”

“Don’t want to.” She seemed to be enjoying herself. “And I didn’t tell you to stop.”

“Better than magic fingers?”

“Yes.”

“Am I better than a sheriff with buck teeth?”

She opened an eye and her entire body relaxed. “Better than those magic fingers and a bucktooth sheriff combined.”

Mulder didn’t know what had caused it. Maybe it was their verbal foreplay that he had lived off for the past five years. Maybe it was that damned vampire sheriff and his glamour in. Maybe he felt jealous of a 50 cent machine giving his partner what he could have done himself. He licked his lips, realizing he was at a crossroads. “What next?”

Scully smiled. “You’re such an ass.” He frowned. “But you’re my ass. Even if you are convinced about the existence of vampires.” 

She pulled at the collar of his black t-shirt. He was caught off by her sudden advance and he lost control over his center mass of weight and toppled on top of her. She let out gut-wrenching laughter and hugged him tightly. “I’ve caught myself a vampire. Quick! Where’s Agent Mulder?”

His black t-shirt collar was stretched and probably beyond repair at this point. He didn’t care. “Knock it off, Scully,” he admonished.

Her laughter only intensified as she cried, “Help, Mulder, help! A buck-toothed sheriff has glamoured me and made me powerless. Save my honor with your magic fingers!” Mulder arched his head and pulled back in surprise. She laughed. “I’m kidding!”

He rolled off to the side. “I’m not.” He grinned. “And the fact you mentioned glamour is a real turn-on.” He smiled teasingly. “You know, that is very rarely mentioned in the literature about vampires.”

“Shut up, Mulder,” she dismissed. She closed her eyes with an exhausted smile.

He wanted this to continue. Awkward was an understatement. He leaned forwards. Her foot massage was forgotten, she indulged in this...development between them, for the moment. It could be forgotten in their final report and whatever they told Skinner. 

“I feel you staring. What are you doing exactly? Or us?” She opened her eyes and watched him. “Mulder?”

Maybe it was the vampires still but Mulder wouldn’t let this one slide, nor did he want to. “Maybe I was drugged?”

“Drugged in a good way?”

Scully arched an eyebrow and tried to push him away. Mulder leaned forward more, grabbing her wrists gently with his left hand, pushing them up above her head. She didn’t fight him. “And what would you call this?”

“I’m rechecking you for bite marks. He bent forward, mere inches from her face. Scully could feel the hotness from his breath as they flared from his nostrils like a wild animal. His eyes were dilated. He nuzzled her neck softly. “I don’t see any. Maybe I got something to prove?”

“Prove? Mulder, let me go.”

“Magic fingers, remember?”

His right hand had a mind of its own. Magic fingers indeed. She squirmed as he found his intended target and her breaths came out more hurriedly. He leaned forward and kissed her, soft at first and then growing in intensity. As Mulder broke  
.  
In between a flurry of kisses, clothes being removed, and affirmations of trust and value were whispered amongst the bedsheets, Mulder found Scully on top of him. She wrestled for control and won. “If you keep smiling like that, it might freeze like that permanently,” he told her.

Her hands rested gently on the curve of her hips. “Were you jealous, Mulder?”

“Of a buck-toothed vampire?”

“He wasn’t bucktoothed.”

“Or of the magic fingers?”

“You had it coming. I heard karma can be a bitch.”

“Well, I’m not complaining now. But when we are finishing this report, I think we need this part out.”

“I think we would need to explore it more when we get home, either at my place of yours.”

“I agree.”

She leaned forward and kissed the puckered wound on his shoulder before lingering on his lips. She squeezed her thighs against his. Mulder could feel her all over him. He entered her with gusto but she held onto him. Somewhere, right outside of Dallas, she rode him, whispering confessions of love, trust, validation, and he was much, much better than any buck-toothed sheriff. They awoke the next morning, spooned against another, him whispering drabbles into her ear as he held her. She sighed softly against him and hugged him tighter.

“So much for finishing our report,” he whispered to her softly. 

Scully felt his leg wrapped around her hip and his arms tightened around her. Since her recovery from cancer, she had a new lease on life and was determined to do what she thought she never had a chance to do. “Can I tell you something?” Her voice was soft. “Something I was afraid to say?”

“Anything, Scully.”

“When I was in the hospital when I thought I was certain I was going to die, I dreamed of you. I dreamed of this with us.”

Mulder smirked, kissing the back of her neck. He felt the scar that held the chip keeping her alive. “I did too.”

“Nothing like your tapes?”

He chuckled. “You’re above that. You’re...Scully.”

She turned to face him. “You say that with such,” she paused, trying to find the right word, “absolute faith and reverence. It’s like you put me above everything.”

“You are.”

She traced a finger across his chest, where she knew his heart was positioned. “Cross your heart and hope to die?”

“You’ll stick a needle in my eye,” he murmured. “Or somewhere else forensics won’t trace.” He kissed her forehead and held her closer. “I’m not going anywhere; neither are you. And I’ll stop any bucked toothed sheriff that tries to stop me.”

She smiled softly and kissed him. “We still have to figure out how to finish our report.”

“Vampires. I was drugged. My magic fingers are better than any machines.”

“I’m not arguing with that.”

She relaxed with him and Scully was convinced that while vampires didn’t exist, there was still something otherworldly about Fox Mulder and that she was in love with him.

* * * * * *  
The next afternoon back in Washington D.C, A.D. Skinner interlaced his fingers, clearly not amused. The migraine that these two created was worse than usual. He had many over the years but this had to be in the top three. After dealing with the threat of a multi-million dollar lawsuit, his agents seemed less than coherent.

The stories were so conflicted and irreverent, he wondered if there was something else at work between them. He watched his agents. Scully kept crossing her legs, looking away, and Mulder kept fixing his tie, almost fidgeting like a child in trouble. Something was going on. After the report of the medical coroner being...gnawed on (why hadn’t he found a better word?), he expected his agents to go down to Texas and be back that evening. They were back two days later. It should have been an open and closed case. Of course, they took longer. But both Mulder and Scully seemed more agitated. What else was between the lines of their report? He cleared his throat and asked, “So, that's it? They simply disappeared without a trace. And that's exactly the way it happened from start to finish?”

Both agents sat across from him in two worn leather chairs; Scully swore they both had molded those chairs to their bodies. She crossed her hands and legs primly, avoiding his gaze. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Mulder. He was no better. “Well, I can neither confirm nor deny agent Mulder's version of events which occurred outside my presence.”

Mulder was slouched and still messing with his tie. Still. “And I can neither confirm nor deny Agent Scully's version of events, but, um…”

Her mind raced. She could remember that night with his hands on her. He traced her every single curve. She studied him like a scientific miracle. Magic fingers indeed.. What did her mind keep coming back to that? They both did something they had never done before. It was just as far fetched as his vampires. How would you explain that? She blurted out the first thing she thought of. “Anyway... I was drugged.”

Mulder fought back a smile. God, he loved her. He tried to face Skinnier with a serious face but was struggling greatly. “That is ... essentially, exactly the way it happened.”

Scully wasn't exactly lying as she repeated. “Essentially.”

“Besides I was drugged,” Mulder added as an afterthought.

Sculler grimaced and hid her face in her hand. Skinner cleared his throat and looked at the conflicting reports and closed the separate files. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms uncomfortably. “I won’t contest it. But next time, Agents, try to keep your stories straight.”

Scully sat up straighter and replied, “Yes, sir.” 

Mulder responded as an afterthought. “Yes. Got you. Sire. I mean sir.”

Scully could have died there on the spot but she grabbed his hand and pulled him from the office. Skinner leaned back into his leather chair and sighed. He looked at the two reports before him and swept them into the trash can. He could chalk that up to another taxpayer waste and another pair of agents falling for each other. Might as well keep it quite a bit longer. The water cooler talk about the basement he heard was already enough.

Out in the hallway, Mulder and Scully retreated and slapped his bicep (hard!) as they stood outside Skinner’s office and other people walked by them. Scully eyed each one with her patented Scully eyebrow. Mulder stifled a laugh into his hand. She grabbed her hand. “Stop it!”

“About what?”

“The magic fingers!”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking about it!”

That caused Mulder to laugh even harder as Scully pushed him to the elevator. She shielded them as people got off and left the elevator to them. She continued to take charge and steered him in there. “I can’t wait to see this relationship evolve, Scully.”

“Mulder!”

As the elevator doors closed, his arms were already around her waist and he boxed her in against the fake wood-paneled wall. “Better than buck teeth?”

“Much better than bucked teeth.”

“So, do we finish this report at my place or your place?”

The elevator dinged, signaling the basement office. Scully smiled. “Mine. Bring a bottle of wine and Italian and I’ll show you how to properly revise and edit a report.” She ducked under his arm to walk to her basement office.

“I’m getting tutored by Dr. Scully,” he laughed, following, “I’m looking forward to it.”

“You better. Besides, you know I’m the smarter one between us.”

Mulder leaned forward and snuck a kiss just as the elevators closed, taking them back down the basement.


End file.
